I was busy with lots of different projects, but in spite of this, a little up and down in mood.
The boy with the red hair is still away in hospital experiencing the big dipper ride of constantly adjusting medication. Without it, he becomes violent at the drop of a hat. Most of the time his violence is against himself as he desperately tries to control his impulses and frustrations. He will bite his hand or fling himself on the floor and smash it with his arms. Sometimes he attacks others. He has never attacked me.
He is 19 now and very tall and thin. I keep picturing his ginger red spikey hair and salt white face, usually with bright red angry acne. I hope they get the magic mixture right soon.
The girl who loves keys runs to meet me as I park my elderly mercedes next to the music room door. "Les clés, les clés" she calls, begging for my key ring as she leans over the boot of the car and caresses the paint work affectionately.
The boy who makes a sound like a chainsaw is lurking in the hedge. He is making happy chainsaw noises. I am surprised by this as he usually only starts up the machine when he is in pain or angry. He is grinning and staring at his reflection in the window.
The boy who just says "oui" makes his way slowly from the residential area.
I sit them down and start playing the guitar.
The chainsaw starts up as I try to make up everyone's stories. Instead of reacting in the usual way and trying to quieten him, I decide to go with it for once... he is obviously making the noise for pleasure instead of pain this time. I sing back at him and change the sound slightly to make it less aggressive and painful in frequencies. He looks me straight in the eyes for long periods and sings back to me. We have a conversation between us in chainsaw language. To everyone's relief, the sound he makes becomes rounder and easier on the ear.
He says "yeah" and "ah". He is usually non verbal.
My spirits are lifted and refreshed and I come home happier than I have been for a while.